


The Statue

by evilwriter37



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Crowley's Statue (Good Omens), M/M, Sexual Tension, Suggestive Dialogue, Suggestive positions, Unresolved Sexual Tension, suggestive artwork, the dick joke was warranted if y'all have seen michael sheen in tron legacy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-04-24 10:53:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19171807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evilwriter37/pseuds/evilwriter37
Summary: Aziraphale is taken by surprise when he sees the statue in Crowley's flat.





	The Statue

Aziraphale was eager to go to Crowley’s flat. He’d never been before, and he very much wanted to see how his partner lived. He wasn’t really sure what to expect. His style of dress was modern, dark, and stylish, but then the Bentley had been far from modern. Perhaps it would be a mix of a modern and vintage style. Hm, maybe some color as well. Was Crowley really into the whole black thing or had he just been doing that to keep up appearances as a demon? 

They took the elevator up. The hallway was sparse with not even a carpet to cover the  dusty stone floor. Odd. The building had appeared quite nice on the outside.

“Do you not let anyone up here?” Aziraphale asked.

“No,” Crowley answered. “Have to keep my location a secret after all.”

Aziraphale felt a little fuzzy inside knowing that Crowley was revealing this secret to him. He wondered if he would have shown him even without them having to devise a plan for Heaven and Hell. Crowley had looked at him quite softly before saying they could go to his flat, like he wanted this to be more than just business. They’d grown so much closer over the past week after already having a friendship that had survived 6,000 years. It was more than friendship now, maybe always had been.

Crowley waved his hand and the door of painted black wood swung open. Aziraphale followed him in and was met with… gray. Everything was just gray stone. They’d entered what seemed to be a parlour. The carpet was black, and so was all the leather furniture. Some of the chairs were facing floor-to-ceiling windows, the view one of London, all its lights twinkling out of the dark. 

“Well, this is the old place,” Crowley said, spreading his arms. “Not much really.”

“I was expecting more personality,” Aziraphale told him. “What with all the dramatic flair you have.”

“Oh, it’s got some.” Crowley gestured for him to follow him into a hallway. Aziraphale did, was met with lovely, tall green houseplants. Had Aziraphale not known more about Crowley and that he certainly didn’t seem like a demon, this would have seemed unexpected, but it made perfect sense to him. The healthy green was a sharp contrast to the grays all around him. It made Aziraphale smile fondly. He brushed a hand lovingly over one of the large leaves. 

His attention was drawn away from the plants though, to something out of the corner of his eye. He whipped around to look in shock at the statue nestled in its own alcove. His eyes went big in shock and he moved past Crowley, who was standing in his usual casual stance with his hands in his pockets and his hips jutted forward. He reached out to touch the statue when he was close, but didn’t, swiftly put his hand back down. Then he looked between Crowley and the statue in awe. 

“Oh! Oh dear. Crowley, what is  _ this? _ ” He turned around to face Crowley, pointed to the statue with both hands.

“Oh.” Crowley trilled his lips as he stepped over, acting like he’d forgotten about the statue, and maybe he had, being in its presence daily. “Got it from a Greek artist. He had a lovely collection. Liked all that biblical stuff a lot it seems. Almost bought one he had of Gabriel just to laugh at how inaccurate it was, but Hell would have talked my ear off about that. Anyway, acquired this in Italy during the fall of Lorenzo De Medici. Messy business that. The French came and-”

“Yes, but what are they  _ doing? _ ” Aziraphale interrupted, not interested in a lesson in history he already knew.

Crowley looked at him with his eyebrows raised and his mouth a little quirked. “What do you think they’re doing?”

Aziraphale cleared his throat. “Wrestling.”

Crowley went over to the statue, rested his elbow on the shoulder of the winged being on top. “Ah, yes. Just good and evil getting into a friendly tussle.” There was a teasing tone to his voice. He lowered his sunglasses to show his eyes, expression now genuine. “But if you see here from this angle…” He beckoned him close with one finger and, curious, Aziraphale came forward. He expected Crowley to point something out to him, but a surprised yelp left him as his weight suddenly crashed into him. Aziraphale fell to his hands and knees and Crowley took his right wrist and wrenched his arm backwards. Crowley’s hips pressed against his backside as he leaned over him, mouth near his ear. 

“Does this seem like wrestling?” he asked in a low rasp that sent tingles up Aziraphale’s spine. The position was kindling a pleasant heat in his stomach. He wasn’t uncomfortable with sex as a topic, not as it pertained to humans, but it pertaining to himself was something else entirely. He couldn’t help blushing.

“Um, no. Not when you put it like this.”

Crowley laughed, then got off Aziraphale and gently helped him up. He’d been rough a moment ago, but Aziraphale hadn’t been afraid, knew that Crowley would never hurt him. He looked over Crowley’s shoulder at the statue as he brushed off his jacket for him, blushing more with the fact that he’d just been in that same position.

Crowley gave a smile that showed his teeth. “Evil’s winning in that, if you must know.”

“Hm.” Aziraphale straightened his jacket with a curt motion, blush fading. He knew just the thing to say to come out on top in this teasing and make up for Crowley taking him by surprise. “Though I think Good has a larger weapon to assist his moral argument.”

Crowley’s eyes went instantly downwards, which was alright given that Aziraphale was now joining in on the teasing. His mouth dropped a little and he looked to his face again.

“Are you really-”

“Now, about this plan.” Aziraphale put an arm around Crowley’s shoulders and steered him back towards the parlour away from the suggestive piece of artwork. It had now been put behind him, but that didn’t change the fact that he was still thinking of how it had felt to be so intimately close to Crowley. Maybe next time they could try “wrestling” with less clothing in the way.

The statue in mention.

"Are you certain that they're wrestling?" - Neil Gaiman


End file.
